Love Letter
by Mariagoner
Summary: For those who correspond with emperors, reading between the lines is a necessary skill. Now with a sequel featuring Basch and his attempts at dealing with lovesick adolescents! Featuring Larsa, Penelo, Basch, Noah, LarsaPenelo hints.
1. Love Letter

This serves a companion piece of two earlier Larsa X Penelo stories (A Sort of Fairy Tale and Songs in the Key of Strange Minor), though it's not necessary to read those earlier fics in order to understand this one. It was written for the radiant arcanephoenix, who likes to upload huge lists of songs for me. Aural accompaniment to the writing process always helps! ;)

As always, comments, questions and constructive crit fill me with love.

**Title: Love Letter**

**Fandom: Final Fantasy XII**

**Series: The Uses of Enchantment **

**Pairings: Larsa X Penelo, Future-fic**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Summary: For those who correspond with emperors, reading between the lines is a necessary skill.**

**NOTE: Due to the layout of the Pit o' Voles, I couldn't include strike-outs in this version of the fic. Therefore, any text within the dashes (such as these: ----) is text that Larsa deleted as he was preparing his letter for Penelo.**

The Archived First Draft of an Letter Eventually Sent from His Majesty the Emperor Larsa Ferrinas Solidor to his future wife, Her Majesty the Empress Penelo Majus Solidor, on his Fourth Year on the Throne.

--My-- Dear--est-- Penelo:

It has been so many months since I last saw you that I find it strangely difficult to begin writing this letter to you. It has been so long since I've seen your --smile eyes lips hips lashes limbs-- face that I almost have to strain my memory thinking of how you must look as you find yourself with another letter from an --admirer-- old friend. But write you I shall, as I promised you in the last letter I sent you, almost three weeks ago. I --am so sorry-- regret having to arrange a correspondense so --pathetic-- shoddy in its frequency with one of my --most beloved-- companions. Yet ever does the crown of Archadia hang heavy on my head without --you-- much to relieve it and ever do the troubles of the realm capture my time and attention though I would willingly rain both down upon --you-- any friend.

I deeply regret having to spend so much time away from our correspondence, Penelo. But please try and understand. There is much abroad and overseas, in both Rozarria's and Ordalia's halls of power, that needs to be carefully tended. I'm sorry if I neglect our --relationship-- friendship together in that time. Please don't be upset with me. I have never meant to --slight ignore neglect-- offend you.

But as per your last instructions, I promise I will try to write this missive plainly. Unlike almost everyone else around me, you're --honest real authentic-- not the sort of person to bother with fancy prose that serves mostly to obscure meaning. That is only one of many traits that I deeply --love-- admire about you. I know that I don't have to pretend to --be something I'm not-- feel emotions I truly don't when we're together. Perhaps that's why Archades feels so --hollow stifling empty-- reserved now that you have left --me-- the city behind for yet another adventure. I grow tired, Penelo, of painted masks and meaningless smiles and all the world seems quite faded when it passes by without --you-- old friends by my side. Please try and promise me that you shall come visit again with me soon.

Much has changed in Archades and the empire as a whole since you were last here. Judge Gabranth continues to serve as the commander of our armed forces but we have had a steady stream of people turning away from the military and toward the study of art, literature, science and technology, as I have always hoped they eventually would. Archadia is turning into a different place, even-- dare I pen this?-- a I better /i place, a place that might one day be worthy of its importance in the world.

For too long, Penelo, have the people of my empire been harbringers of war and carriers of injustice. We are both orphans because of that and I shall not have the losses you and I and almost all of Ivalice have suffered go down in the pages of history in vain. Archadia changes, Penelo, and it is all because we in this realm here are now determined to make that so. We have spoken of this before, you and I, and I have --dreamed about-- thought back to your words often in the past. You told me before that you looked to the future with hope because, where there exists in life and faith, there is I always /i hope. I dream your dream, Penelo, as often as I dream of --you-- the worries of the world. I dream it partly i because /i of you. --You-- Dreamers like you --are my-- give me hope in this uncertain world of ours, this world in which exists so much absolute evil. You give me hope and no matter what I simply can't thank you enough for doing so.

But enough of such heavy words. Much has changed, of course, but much remains the same and I can still remember clearly your last visit to my throne. I've never experienced --so much laughter-- another occasion quite like it or seen so many --wide eyes-- befuddled judges in my i life /i . We had to completely replaced the scorched carpet on the fourth floor, we managed to eventually mount the head of the dragon you and Vaan slew in the trophy room and I'm sure that tales of wild were-emperors that stalk in the night shall haunt the dreams of junior Judges for years to come. You are the talk of Archades, Penelo, as I've always known you --should-- would be.

In fact, I hope you will be rather --interested-- struck by the way people now speak of you-- as though you were not merely my intimate friend but also my --lover-- more intimate companion still! I was rather --pleased-- suprised to hear such rumors as well. I have not even reached my sixteenth year in this world and yet so many already suppose that I am old enough for --you-- such proclivities. But I suppose many of my subjects were struck by your --beauty-- exotic provinence and occupation and supposed that a creature as --fair-- poised as you would settle for no less than a man who could --handle you-- properly care for you. I do not know if I quite fit that definition yet --however much I want to--.

Of course, such conjecture is quite vile, since you would of course never condescend to be with another man in such a way before --me-- marriage, as any maiden would. I try and --encourage-- quell such sayings when possible but I'm afraid such might be even beyond the capacity of any man, be he even the Emperor of all of the world.

It is very quiet and very busy here in Arcades, Penelo, but for all the stillness in the city, there is much yet for you to discover and revisit. Our cook has promised to amass enough star fruit in the palace kitchen to keep Vaan busy for hours while we spend our --private-- time together touring those magickal shops and laboratories you enjoyed so much the last time you came here. Judge Gabranth has promised that he shall be equally difficult on the both of us during our next training session together, since we both know how --brave strong valiant-- determined you are to be tested to your full capacity as a warrior. And I finally discovered the secret to the lillies that grow in my palace's planned ponds, which I know you have waited already to understand. Yet I admit to being cruel and am waiting for you to come and let me --look-- listen to you personally before I explain --my-- their secrets to you.

And we may yet visit the Phon Coast together-- I remember you told me once that on your first adventure in the world, you gazed out at those waters and wanted so much to go within them but lacked the proper instruction. I have means to remedy that, Penelo. We can go there together because I will always --force-- find time for --you-- an old friend and I shall show you how to swim within the waters the way a mermaid --like you-- should. I think you shall be a --exquisite beautiful breathtaking-- charming sight with shells in your hand and sea-weed in your hair.

Please --fly back-- feel free to revisit the capital again anytime you like. My doors are always open, Penelo, whenever you need a place to roost.

--Wherever I am will always be a home to you.--

--Wherever I am will always be a home to you.--

_Wherever I am will always be a home to you._

--With Great Esteem,--

--His Imperial Majesty Larsa Ferrinas Solidor

Of the Royal Line of House Solidor

Ruler of Archadia and All Its Realms Beyond the Sea--

Yours in Truth,

Larsa


	2. Brotherly Love

Apparently, every time I'm in the midst of great happiness, I feel the need to go and torture Basch_ just a little bit more_. And why should a week as grand as this one be the exception anyhow? ;)

In any case, this is a direct sequel to an earlier fic called Love Letter, part of the larger Uses of Enchantment series and written as part of a fic exchange for the unfairly talented **Serindrana**. I can only hope this measures up to her own writing just a bit!

**Title: Brotherly Love**

**Fandom: Final Fantasy XII**

**Series: The Uses of Enchantment**

**Characters/Pairings: Basch, Noah, Larsa, hints of Larsa/Penelo**

**Rating: PG-13**

**Summary: Hell hath no fury like a man subjected to years of dealing with adolescent lunatics in love...**

Once upon a time, in a kingdom long since despoiled, there had lived two brothers identical in nearly every way. They were both young and they were both tall, both brave and both hardy, both the apples of their parents' collective eyes and the gleaming hopes of their nation's army. But between the two of them, it was always the younger boy, Noah, who was acknowledged as the more cunning one and it was a fact that never ceased to trouble his brother.

Oh, people had always been willing to point out the elder brother's good points as well. Basch was intelligent as well, they'd admit, a bright boy, as well as a kind, honorable and industrious one. But-- here they would shake their head-- his brother _did_ have an edge over him in the area of stabbing backs with alacrity and running before any blame could be attached. Perhaps that's what came of having fewer inhibitions than a nymphomaniac alley cat.

Basch had always hated that assessment-- as though the fact that he held actual _morals_ in his heart would incapacitate him in life! But now, staring at the anguished face of the youngest Solidor scion as he sought yet more 'advice' on what to do with a matter he had already fretted on for years on end, Basch-- now known as _Judge Gabranth_, there was yet another thing he had to thank his brother for-- had to concede said people might have had something of a point.

Oh, there had been a great many things Basch had always done better at over his brother. He had consistently beaten Noah in most of their spars, had been more popular with the women folk (much to his own bewilderment-- apparently they liked the 'strong and silent sort' after all) and he even played a meaner game of moogle hearts when he had enough alcohol in him to shake out a bit of his moral fiber. But when it came to out-_thinking_ his brother... well, Noah had always had the edge there.

Of course, that didn't mean that, when they reunited in the great training hall in the sky, he wouldn't give his brother the beating of his after-lifetime for saddling him with the many travails of the most powerful adolescent in all of Ivalice. But Basch had to give Noah this much-- it was probably much more enjoyable to guard Larsa Ferrinas Solidor when said Solidor had been a sprightly little lad of twelve than when he was an emperor of fifteen, with concerns that ranged from ones as mundane as managing the tariffs of his borders to ones as apparently world-shattering as psychotically wooing his lady pirate love.

No wonder his brother had ever-so-conveniently _died_ right before the first flood of hormones had come over Larsa. Noah's timing had always been suspiciously impeccable. And right now, looking at his young liege's wide-eyed, anxious face, Basch couldn't blame the former Judge Gabranth for doing so either.

"You don't think," Larsa began ominously, "that perhaps I was too forward in that last letter I wrote Penelo, do you?"

No, Basch thought as he took in the warning signs that always preceded a full blown attack of Solidor lunacy, he didn't blame Noah at all. If _he_ were in his brother's place and had already known of the tendency of Archadian aristocracy to go to operatic extremes to win the favors of their desired ones, he probably would have probably ran head-first into Vayne's pointy, bat-winged party favors as well.

Not that Basch had known of said tendency at the first. In fact, all told, the first few years he had masqueraded as Judge Magister Gabranth had gone by far more painlessly than he had thought possible. Oh, there had most certainly been some trouble up ahead, as could be expected when any boy whose voice had barely dropped in manhood ascended the throne to one of the grandest empires in Ivalice. There had been political troubles abroad and grumbling amongst the nobles; there had been gentry to please and the public to pacify and god only knew how many sleepless nights full of much anguished paperwork to endure. There had even been the occasional assassination attempts, though none had even come close to harming a downy hair on Larsa's head, thanks to Basch's own vigilant watch.

But as first the weeks and then the months and then the years of Larsa's regime had gone by, most of those troubles had subsided. The paperwork gradually sorted itself out, the foreign realms came to recognize Larsa as the rightful ruler of Archadia, the nobles eventually swore fealty once more to the Solidor banner and the public embraced their boy emperor as their very own. Even the assassination attempts against him had subsided, though Basch looked rather happily toward his monthly thwarting of whatever idiot tried to stab his liege in front of a few armor-bound guards this time around.

(That was the trouble with evil nowadays, Judge Zargabaath had noted-- no quality control.)

But then Larsa had turned fourteen and it had all gone to hell. He had turned fourteen and he had gained a few inches and a voice that scaled up and down in volume like a girl tuning tricks on the piano and apparently more than his fair share of hormones. He had turned fourteen and suddenly had started noticing such things as 'hips' and 'lips' and 'thighs' and how beautifully said things could be shown on a certain dancer during a traditional Dalmascan revel which displayed what even the Queen who had sponsored it had to admit was an impressive lack of clothes.

He had turned fourteen and all of a sudden, someone who had once been known as his 'dear friend' magically turned into his 'one true love' overnight, till he was driving all of those closest to him (meaning Basch in particular) mad in an attempt to justify and plan for his longing for her. He had turned 14 and was inviting said 'one true love' over to his palace as often as possible and turning the corridors of a thousand year old institution upside down every time to prepare it for her. He had turned 14 and began sending the best minds of his empires out in the world to scour every bit of information on her that could be found, only to go mad with jealousy every time she exhibited anything regarding a social life and bombarding her with the occasional, 'casual' (in the sense that some of them had only gone through one draft instead of the usual three or four) letter to remind her that he existed. He had turned fourteen and fallen hopelessly in love and… and… and…

And a lesser man might have gone screaming into the night at the first sign of talk about a certain braided someone coming from Larsa's currently-less-than-silver'd tongue. But as Larsa's sworn defender in all the realm, Basch supposed he had a duty to try and till the barren wasteland that was his liege's current love life, though where this was written in the knight's code Basch didn't quite know.

He gave it a try despite the futility of it all. "Your Majesty, I believe that perhaps you worry too much over such matters."

Turning to him, his master gave Basch a look that suggested that Basch might have had better luck advising him to undress and do the chocobo dance in an attempt to forget such matters. Even in the face of certain defeat, however, a true Ronsenberg pressed on. For the honor of Landis, Basch did the same now. "Your Majesty, I have read said letter-- as has Judge Magister Zargabaath and Judge Magister Alsabar and the chief librarian of the Archadian stacks and the dean of the schools of arts and literature and three of the minor judges you passed on the way to the post and the post master himself-- and we have _all_ /i agreed that it was a very fine letter. Penelo would have to be rather, er, blind not to see how much honest, ah, affection you hold for her."

That was putting it mildly, But indeed, all nine of those… privileged enough to read the last letter their Emperor had sent off had admired how very honeyed their liege's words had been-- or at least, they had once they had finished pitying poor Penelo. There was nothing nearly as terrifying as a Solidor man in love.

Larsa seemed intent on proving that right now. "But don't you _see_, Gabranth? That is exactly what I am most afraid of! Because you already know that I have... I have _plans_ for when we reunite in the next few years. I can't frighten her off with any of my, well, my _intentions_ yet because if I do, she won't ever see me as anything more than a besotted little boy! I mean, I do realize that she is very perceptive and intelligent in her own right and she... she might have already recognized something of my true heart on this matter. But I don't think she knows of the depth of it, of how... how very…"

Personally, Basch felt that if Penelo had somehow managed to miss out on all the signs that she (of all the possible women in Ivalice) held Larsa's favor, she was probably deaf, dumb, blind and possibly undead as well, given how unsubtle his liege was whenever he felt strongly of something. But then, Larsa could be almost… _shy_ when it came to interacting with her. It would have been sweet to see, if Larsa didn't spend upwards of three hours bemoaning his lack of nerve with her afterwards.

Hoping this would head Larsa off before a full case of romantic anguish came on, Basch started again. "Sire, as I said before, I believe you may be worrying too much. At this point, even if she recognizes how, er, strongly you feel about her, she will likely dismiss it as a boy's fancy that will soon wear off. All you have to do now is persevere for a few more years-- if indeed such is _not_ the case-- and prove her wrong."

If the look of genuine shock that passed over Larsa's pointed face meant anything, it was probably that Basch had only opened his mouth to insert a fully armored foot within it. "But Gabranth-- that's even worse! I don't _want_ her to see me as a mere boy-- as a _child_! I may be only 7 months shy of turning 16-- which brings our age difference down to a mere _3 years_ for at least _2 months_-- but I am fully capable of knowing what I want now. I ascended to my current position at the age of merely 12-- how could she _not_ realized that I have long since outgrown my peers?"

And then, looking more like a unhinged baby cockatrice with its feathers puffed up with indignation than ever, Larsa went on. "I'm _not_ a child anymore but maybe… maybe she doesn't quite realize that. But Gabranth, you know that, don't you? I've grown up right before your very eyes. You know I'm no longer the boy I used to be. I'm a _man_ now, I'm almost 16, I'm more than old enough to know just what I want…"

With something terrifyingly akin to nostalgia, Basch found himself thinking of his old cage back in the Nalbina dungeons. It was true that said place had been disgusting and vile and filthy and had unjustly served as his place of imprisonment for crimes he would never commit for over two years. But if Basch had known of the sort of lovesick lunatics he'd have to endure after he left its loathsome embrace, he might have rethought leaving it in the first place.

Nonetheless, even despite his pained longing for a nice, cozy dungeon with absolutely no adolescents within it, Basch persevered on. Not for nothing was he known as a man who would stare death-- or in this case, lunatic love-- in the face without flinching. "Your Imperial Majesty," Basch began again, cautiously, "if I might impart a word of advice that I've always found to serve myself and the men under my company well?"

Larsa raised his face up to him and, with a cautious note of optimism blooming in his heart, Basch noted that the little spasmodic twitch he had started developing on his right temple as a warning sign towards Larsa's love-madness was settling down. Considering how his scarred visage and, oh yes, _apparently eternal servitude to House Solidor_ made Basch a rather dicey romantic prospect anyway, he found himself truly glad of that. His mother, may the Occuria rest her soul, would have been thrilled to know there _could_ still be a few Ronsenberg progeny to come in the future.

"My lord," Basch began, as slowly and gently as possible, "sometimes the very best policy _is_ honesty. I know that it is often… difficult to be truly open about your feelings to someone you deeply care for. But perhaps allowing Penelo to see more of your true sentiments would actually help prepare her for later declarations. Perhaps it would even tilt her more towards your favor. Who knows? Perhaps she already feels the same and only needs to hear what you have to say now."

If the suddenly still expression of dawning hope in Larsa's face meant anything, perhaps Basch could have some relief at last.

"Do you really believe that to be the case, Gabranth?" Larsa said in return, just as slowly and just as gently, as though jostling the matter might bring up that wellspring of vulnerability that always lay just below the surface of his liege's usually unruffled countenance. "Do you believe that if I told Penelo of my true feelings-- not in a letter, of course, that is far too impersonal-- but when she stands before me… do you really believe that she would accept them? That she would accept everything I could offer her? That she would accept _me_?"

And that, Basch thought, looking down at Larsa's pale, drawn face and slightly shaky smile, was probably a question both of them would trade an entire treasury in to safely answer.

"I don't know," Basch said and then, laughing a little at his own audacity, gently let his gloved hand rest on the top of Larsa's dark, gleaming head. Said head stirred a little at the touch but made no move to shake it off. "There are no guarantees in either life _or_ love, my lord. But it would only be fair to let her know such, wouldn't it? After all, even if she didn't accept your declarations, I do not believe her to be the sort of woman to be cruel and abandon you as a friend afterwards. And if she _did_, perhaps the two of you…"

"I…" Larsa began, stopped, smiled, restarted. Basch's gloved hand gently slid down from the top of his liege's head, to rest against his thin shoulder. "I thank you for such kind words, Judge Magister Gabranth. And I, well, I thank you as well for not murdering me in the past year or so. I know I have possibly been a difficult charge to care for in the midst of all the… changes that have been taking place within myself and my House. But in the future, I really do hope that the two of us-- no, no, let's make it the _three_ of us-- that the three of us can find all we were meant to in the world."

For a moment, Larsa closed his eyes and lifted his head slightly to the pale, unfocused sunlight that streamed through the corridors of the palace. For a moment, he lifted his head and the sunlight eased the crease across his brow and the small crow's feet already forming around his temples and the pinched line of his mouth and he looked almost as hopeful and happy as he ought.

Basch found himself smiling at the very thought.

"I hope so too," he whispered, almost afraid to break the calm. "If there were anyone in the world who deserved to be made so happy, it may just be you."

But then Larsa's eyes opened and his face closed up with terrifying swiftness that let Basch know that that sort of moment had already passed. "But God, Gabranth, there are far too many variables adrift to rest easily now. What if I _was_ too forward in the last letter I sent her? What if she finds my attentions so inappropriate that she never comes to visit me again? What if she decides on another in the time before I can declare myself to her? What if... what if... what if…?"

Oh yes, out of the two of them, Noah always _had_ been the more cunning brother. But then, Basch always had been the stronger of the two and he was quite sure that payback would be hell, even _after_ they were both dead and gone.


End file.
